


Mahou Shoujo Mesu Gaki Imouto

by Tas_tan



Category: Original Work
Genre: Brutal, Cervix Penetration, Choking, Cum Vomit, Drugs, F/M, Gangbang, Loli, Stomach Bulge, Vaginal, Vomit, bottom-heavy, cum-inflation, facefuck, gape, headlock, musk, puke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 14:04:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20694767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tas_tan/pseuds/Tas_tan
Summary: A little girl with not-so-typical hobbies and a ridiculously fat ass for her size spends her days as an endearing daughter and sister. At night, her time is spent as the magical girl 'Mesu Gaki'--a heroine of humanity imbued with the power to rid the world of its 'awfulness' one semen-infused line of cocaine at a time.Will she successfully absorb this poorly-defined badness by getting fucked to death by men larger than her? Where did she come from and why is she such a degenerate?No worries, b, you're probably not getting answers to either.





	Mahou Shoujo Mesu Gaki Imouto

Opposite a pale brown door within a hallway devoid of noise sat a little girl enamored with the goings-on of the 'world' contained within her rectangular smartphone. Headphones in-ear and eyes glued to the device's glowing screen, her presence within the hallway was one entertained with regularity.

Like their scientific and athletic counterparts, Averdine Musical Institutions host children within their midst at all hours of the day. Whereas days within the buildings are dominated by the hustle and bustle of its full time students and their educators, evenings and nights see children from all walks of life flow in and out of its halls for a mixture of extra-curricular and supplementary lessons. The latter case in particular—an affordable and equally prestigious option for parents set on seeing their children hone (or acquire) musical talent—essentially guarantees the persistence of a preoccupied child or two within one of their classrooms as far as 6pm in the evening.

If predictable, the presence of this little girl in particular could still be described as abnormal.

Today was Friday: a day cherished by school children worldwide as a temporary end to their daily suffering. It was Friday, and yet the little girl remained inside of a school building past sunset.

Painted across the corridor spanning row of windows behind her seat was the dark of night. Long past were the 'appropriate instructional hours' for underage children. No parent nor institution would have a student as feminine and vulnerable as this one attend a 'lesson' at such an hour—much less without accompaniment and supervision from a parent.

Shortly, her being where she was made her special. Whether blessed by especially wealthy parents—a likely explanation given the becoming combination of spring jacket and thigh-length one-piece dress that clothed her—or some other exceptional connection to the institution at large, something about her was likely more 'exceptional' than could be managed by a typical little girl.

Anyone who laid eyes on the girl would conclude as much about her. Without signage of fear or discomfort in her posture, little else _could_ be concluded about her.

Night after night, the little girl counted on this. Not for fear of the perverts said to prey on children after dark or reprimand for her pre-approved presence within the building; these were problems that no longer applied to her. She counted on this for a few extra minutes of uninterrupted solitude during the day—minutes that she could spend indulging in her favorite genre of 'online content'.

Were anyone who passed her within the hallway on any of her countless nights within it to look past her 'presence' and instead focus in on her content consumption, not one of them would be content to define her as special.

To them, she would become 'different'...

Unacceptably, disgustingly, and abnormally different.

For as much as she wished to avoid such ascriptions, the little girl did not feel that they were in any way unfair to her. There were far more awful words that one could use to describe a child who enjoyed the things that she did; comparatively, 'different' was almost overly polite.

Coincidentally, the words in question were used quite often in almost all of the content that she consumed. If one such 'discerning onlooker' required ideas, a glance down at her phone screen and a dip of their skulls in towards the headphones within her ears would provide them with all of the information they needed to know.

In the present, these together conveyed the sexual brutalization of a fictional young woman by a pair of adult males. I’m talking that good ass Japanese cartoon pornography, nigga. Whilst one male aggressively gored the bulk of his slop-splattered shaft in and out of her throat, another went out of his way to 'handcuff' the girl (pinning both of her wrists against one another behind her back) and simultaneously 'motivate' her (i.e press one of his feet against her back with enough force to keep her torso from wriggling away from the railing of her esophagus).

Unsurprisingly, the male whose cock was plunged in and out of the fictional girl's throat much more talkative than the other.

_“Just going to keep splattering puke on my cock, aren't you, cunt? Useless pigs like you are the reason that none of your cute fuckin' friends can get ahead in life!” one of the men bellowed._

_“You proud of yourself? Wait, what am I even saying? You don't even know where the fuck you are. What do you think, bro? I'll bet the only thing her sow-brain can process is how many eggs it's gonna spit out into all that jizz in her stomach, haha!” _

Though largely out of camera shot, the second male's voice could be heard loud and clear.

_“I told you, bro. One-off cocksleeves like this don't think. Just dump cock juice down her throat so we can fucking toss her already.” he exhaled. “She's not even fighting back—this stupid fucking piglet wants you to gut her throat until she suffocates on jizz.”_

_“You probably should've taken those first two orgasms as a hint, man. She might look like a person, but she's not.”_

_“She's **fucking** garbage.”_

Seemingly enticed by his partner's response, the first male made the latest of his ruthless thrusts his last....for the moment. Messily slotting his sludge-slogged erection down the fictional girl's throat with a sickening *GLORP*, he intentionally stirred her skull to the left and right to grind the inner walls of her esophagus against his erection with additional force. In the process, her cock-spread lips were pulled alongside it—an equally impressive and perverse sight for a nubile pair of lips.

A moment stirring mucus-smeared esophagus flesh around his erection was all the male required to satisfy himself. Behind a fulfilled grunt, he adjusted his grasp on her skull to peel her face off of his crotch and back along the destructive length of his erection. Indifferent to the splutter-laden gagging that the girl produced throughout, the task of uprooting himself from her gullet required mere seconds of effort from him.

At its end, he kept his hands busy. Whilst the index and middle fingers of his right hand shot up into a hooked 'peel' of the left side of the girl's mouth (undoubtedly for the sake of the video's viewers), his left jumped into an abrasive puppeteering of her skull by its hair.

With this, he spoke.

_“So, is he right? Speak up baby-cunt! I don't want to hear you slurring words with all that nut you're spitting up!” he barked._

Though visibly delirious, the fictional girl did preciously as she was told. After several attempts at orienting her stretched lips and semen-smeared tongue for speech, the majority of which ended in slurred eruptions of clotted, paste-sludge semen out of her throat and onto her chest, something resembling speech began flowing between her lips.

_“I-I like bein' hah' pie'sh of h-hedo...”_

_“I told you to speak the **fuck** up, didn't I? Say it so that everyone can hear you!”_

Just as her primary suitor had feared, the state of the fictional girl's mouth hampered each word that she produced. Evidently content with the effort nevertheless, the first male purposed his grasp on her skull in a wrench of her sex-smattered features closer towards the camera capturing the event.

With this, the fictional girl's ruined features became even clearer. Eyes reddened by a mixture of tears and semen and cheeks framed by the occasional slop-affixed pube, the 'feel' given off by her appearance was that of adorable little girl whose appearance had been 'violated' with the same sloppy brutality as her throat.

In spite of everything, though, this girl was not unhappy.

There could be no mistaking it: she was as happy as a girl with semen for brains could be.

_“I-I like bein' hah' pie'sh of h-hedo rapemeat. hl'she k-keep f-fuckin' me like th' h'ueid (stupid) ‘eat (meat) I am..._ ♥_”_

Both of the men took very well to this utterance. Neither of their faces, but the sneers drawn across them could be 'seen' in the perverse elation that they spat up in response to it.

_“G'heh, would you look at that? The little bitch gets it after all!” the first male bellowed. “Since that's how you feel, I'll just keep squeezing cock juice down your throat until you have enough to replace all of the fucking slop you've puked onto yourself!!”_

_“You don't have to worry about a thing, either; I'm going to bloat your stomach with every drop whether you're alive or not! Y'think she'll be able to handle it, bro?”_

To this, the second male produced a response very much unlike those that had come before it.

“Oh, great, you're still here. I thought you'd have gone home by now, Elisa.”

Reflexively, the little girl flicked her line of sight away from her phone screen and up towards the adult male ahead of her.

Internally mortified yet facially flat, she spoke as though her life depended on how natural she could make herself sound then and there.

“I-It's alright, Mr. Morris. Mommy only dropped me off a little while ago, so I've just been watchin' stuff on my phone!”

At this, the man addressed as 'Mr. Morris' sighed in relief.

“Still, I'm very sorry about the wait; I've been so busy with evaluations that I almost forgot about our lesson.” he replied. “Please, come in—I'd never hear the end of it from your cousin if I made you wait here all alone just to send you home, haha.”

Practiced in her craft, Elisa pocketed her phone with her left hand and hopped up from her seat. In the same motion, she briefly stuffed her right hand into its matching coat pocket.

Inexplicably, the mild hum that had separated the hallway's interior from dead silence disappeared.

“I won't tell! I know it's busy for teachers and stuff” Elisa chirped. “If you really really want to make it up to me, just teach me lots of piano stuff today, okay?”

Already on her way inside the classroom, Elisa applied the perfect subterfuge for her entrance. Not only did her comment suit the 'image' her teacher likely maintained of her, but its contents were almost certain to keep his attentions set on the fact that the two of them had a lesson to attend to.

And it did.

“You're right, Elisa. Let's get to it, shall we?” Mr. Morris replied.

Unaware of the sights he had missed in his greeting, the older male ushered his charge inside the classroom with a welcoming extension of his hand.

He did not think to look at her face as she entered, either. Had he, the smirk that she wore might’ve prompted him to reevaluate his perception of her.

But then again, this smirk was not for him.

It was for her.

-

**ELISA’S BEDROOM—THE BRIGHT FAMILY HOME**

“Hello, bedroom. It's me, Elisa....” Elisa exhaled. “Did you miss me? 'cause I really missed you...”

Back inside her bedroom after a lengthy day spent outside of it, Elisa greeted the room as a weary child would their best friend.

To her, the 'station' held by the room was not very far away from that held by a close friend. Inside it, the tension that contributed to her girlish poise did not bear down on her. She did not need to smile if she did not wish to smile, she did not need to speak politely if she did not wish to, and, provided she did not need to be at school or some other appointment, she did not need to leave its 'side'.

More important to Elisa than any of these freedoms was the privacy that it granted to her. Only whilst enclosed within the walls of her bedroom could she properly enjoy her favorite 'content' without compromise.

For this privilege, she was extremely grateful. So much so that her 10 year old mind saw fit to continue speaking aloud with as much endearment as she could.

“School was okay today, but going to piano after was no fun! I had to wait at the institute all by myself again 'cause Nii wouldn't come with me...” she continued. “I guess I like piano, but I'd have rather been in here! A new episode of “figur it out” got posted an' I could only watch on my phone, and I didn't even get to finish it 'cause Mr.Morris is such a fuckin' dummy...”

As was the case with many things supposedly 'restricted' to adults, mixing swearwords into her speech made Elisa feel ‘cool’. Surprisingly, the feeling was not at all diminished by the fact that no but her bedroom was around to hear her.

Happily preoccupied with her rambling, Elisa shed her day’s outfit piece by piece throughout a slow stride towards her bed. First went the pink-strawberry coat that had warmed her torso, then the vanilla-white dress that stopped dangerously short of a full-extension to the mid-section of her thighs, and finally the cherry-red and white sneakers deemed most ‘in’ with her fellow pre-teens. By the time she arrived at the right side of her bed, the only garments that remained on her frame were the ribbon kissed white-socks gloving her feet, a pair of square-framed, liquorice-red glasses, and a fabric-based example of heredity genetics.

Narrowed to the midsection of two gelatinous, pale peach-halves of fat and flesh was the backside of a soft-pink pair of panties. While very clearly intact, both sides of the garment were visibly thinned by the weight and excess of the flesh pressed against them.

Overall, the petite garment was ill-suited for the task handed to it. Whilst walking, the doughy bloat of each cheek jiggled in such a way that kept the garment’s back half peeled in towards the crease where obese softballs met one another. When stagnant ahead of her bedroom mirror, a reflexively ‘unfurling’ of the garment’s fabric by Elisa with her index finger revealed that she had long since outgrown it. Even at its best, a tantalizing arc of squeezable fat could be seen bleeding upwards and outwards from the underside of each cheek. 

Ever aware of the nature of her largest asset, Elisa caught hints of its state from the corner of her eye the moment she arrived near her bed. Made to pout at how much of it she could see, she swiftly twisted her frame ahead of her mirror to look back at herself and ‘properly assess’ the damage.

Like this, the rest of her seemed healthily appropriate for a developing young woman. Narrow shoulders and svelte arms tinted pink at their joints bled into a torso equally devoid of extraneous fat. Her breasts were hardly present—the size of her rear suggested that this would not always be the case, but for the moment, they remained just short of plump mosquito bites. It was below the waist where her ‘problems’ began. Exceptionally wide hips padded with the bare minimum of fat bled into a pair of thighs thick enough to support the bloated cheeks above them, but not quite so eye-catching as to invalidate their owner’s favorite dresses.

At worst, a great deal of her nutrients were being absorbed into her reproductive organs. At best, she was due for a growth spurt.

Whatever the case was, Elisa had no interest in defining it one way or another. In fact, her sole concern regarding the subject was one on a much smaller scale.

“…Am I getting fat?” she suggested aloud, eyes glued to the reflection of her own rear. “What do you think, room? Am I getting fat?”

No answer came to this inquiry, but Elisa was not so naïve as to expect that one would.

“Whatever. Getting fat here is a good thing, anyway! Asami-tan is super fat here an’ everybody like her, right?”

Affirming herself as only she could, Elisa nodded to herself and set her thoughts onto the next order of business for her evening.

“Anyway, I know I just got back, but I’m going to go out and have some fun! Nii did say I gotta master my powers if I’m gonna keep ‘em, so I can’t waste any time.” Elisa declared, hands snapping up into a confident clasp of her hips. “I’ll be back before Mommy gets home, room! Make sure t’ tell me if Nii comes home early, okay?”

Intent stated, Elisa struck a pose. Left hand set atop her heart and right hand extended ahead of her just as she had practiced, a confident smile soon jumped across her face.

“Here we go! Traaaansfoooorm~!”

With these words, an explosion of pale white light erupted from underneath the hand she had set to her chest. In an instant, the explosion’s size consumed the entirety of her chest. In another, the entirety of her bedroom was obscured by its brilliance.

But only for a moment. Once elapsed, the room appeared no different for the otherworldly light that had consumed it.

The little girl within it, however…

She was utterly unrecognizable.

-

**BEST BELIEVE I’M NOT PAYING 10 DOLLARS FOR A WATERED DOWN RUM AND COKE, NIGGA**

In the same way that children cherish their Friday nights and the weekends that follow them, many young adults—specifically those above the age of 18 but below the age of 30—hold a special place within their hearts for the early hours of Saturday morning. It is during this period in particular that the luster of their youth shines at its brightest, and the benefits of their maturity seem the most ‘real’.

Or so one might claim, at least.

Throughout these hours, many an example of this ‘shining youth’ can be found within a given urban expanse. One need not even know where to look—provided one sets out with the goal to find such a thing, it will more often than not find them.

Take, for example, the (x) nightclub. Such is the repute and popularity of the establishment that should one set out to find ‘young adults having ‘fun’—and in doing so consume vast quantities of drugs and alcohol—the odds of their somehow ending up within the establishment are stacked to exceed the probability of their deaths by overdose, murder, and even gang-related violence.

Presently seated opposite one another near the back of the establishment were a pair of males in the midst of enjoying their ‘youth’. Both dressed sharply in spite of the mild humidity within the club, their positions within the half-moon booth that surrounded them suggested that another pair of individuals had sat between them—likely females if one were to consider their physiques and appearances.

Though momentarily abandoned by their partners, neither male had succumbed to the awkwardness of staring at another nigga inside of a nightclub like you’re boys, but you’re not really boys, but neither of you can leave.

Instead, they did as their youth demanded: they enjoyed themselves.

“My nigga, that still doesn’t make any sense. How do you expect a mans to cop Dragon Quest 11™ for a second time just because it’s on the Switch? It’s the same fucking game—hell, shit looks worse nigga.” one of the males shouted.

In response to the Hispanic man's suggestion, the African produced an exaggerated chuckle, then an equally loud retort one after the other.

“Oh my god, b, why are you so retarded!” he began, smiling. “They're the same game, yeah, I'll grant you that bro. I'm sayin' though; you're not tryna see Serena in that one costume 24/7? The uh....”

“Which costume, bitch? I bet you don't even remember.”

“Yo, fuck you. Fuck, the dancer costume, there it is! You're not tryna see her in the dancer costume 24/7, nigga?”

“Bro, I paid 90 fucking dollars to see it the first time, I'm good. You're a fake ass nigga, too; the real shit is Serenica's costume you dumb, ignorant bitch. Stupid ass motherfucker.”

“Haha, yo, suck me dog!” moved to an even heartier chuckle than before, an acceptant grin burst across the African male's jaw in response to his companions argument.

Not to be outdone, he opted to conclude their 'bantz' in such a way that might leave him as 'winner' of their conversation.

“I'm just saying, nigga: the Nintendo Switch™ is a tight device, b. I don't mind paying another 100 fucking Canadian dollars to grind a JRPG with additional content. You can hate if you want—more puff-puffs for me bitch.”

Amused, a similarly wide grin popped across the Hispanic male's face. 'Beaten’, he leaned over towards the African male and playfully shoved at his left shoulder. Uttering an equally jovial “Whatever, bitch.” throughout the act, his deference to the African male's point all but evaporated. He had not submitted to the points presented to him, but the overall tone of his response suggested a willingness to accept them.

Between the pair, no more than this was necessary. Afterwards, they reoriented within their seats and returned to waiting for their female counterparts to return from the club's restroom.

In this time, their eyes wandered. As young men were want to—especially those under the influence of alcohol and other cool club narcotics—they momentarily eyed every scantily-clad and or well-endowed young woman nearby for the same reason that they waited patiently for their female companions to return: a desire for sexual satiation.

Throughout one of these prolonged scans of the dimly lit expanse something particularly eye-catching hooked the males’ attentions in sequence.

Freshly seated at one of the club's lounge areas was a female much smaller and slighter than those around her.

Abnormally so.

Cocaine straw in hand, the platinum-haired tot cleared an especially massive line of white powder and within the same breath opened her mouth towards one of several adult males at her side. As opposed to surveying the state of her tonsils or checking for a toothache or some shit, this male placed a single white tablet atop the center of her tongue. The moment the little girl closed her mouth to swallow the pill (and settle her coke-infused sinuses and grey-matter), he affectionately patted the top of her head as a father might reward his daughter for taking her 'medication'.

Initially, this sight made the pair extremely uncomfortable. But, in this discomfort, their gazes lingered at the sight long enough for its female centerpiece to recognize that she was being stared at.

She didn't shy away from her latest source of attention. Eyes-lidded and features smiley, she instead stared right back—long enough and hard enough for both parties to become aware of one another.

Within seconds of this eye-contact, the discomfort felt between the pair vanished, and was swiftly replaced by depraved interest. Neither one of them could discern _why_ the shift had happened. Both recognized its occurrence, but could not bring themselves to think on it.

Looking back at the stars embedded within the little girl's eyes was simply too entrancing.

As if sensing the shift in her onlookers, the little girl hopped from her seat and strode casually through the club floor towards the seated males’ booth. Weaving in-between individuals as though they weren't present, she arrived directly opposite their table within less than a minute.

There, she smiled to the pair and waved.

“Hi, I'm Mesu! Did'ja both wanna fuck me to death, too?” she began, voice inviting and inquisitive. “If you've got some drugs, you can splatter as much cum inside me as you wanna! Even if I puke or whatever, okay?”

Neither the African nor the Hispanic responded to the little girl's suggestion. Internally, the men had replied with a resounding yes, but in the moment, manipulating their mouths in speech was too difficult a task for them to complete.

Then and there, nearly all of their mental resources were taken up with processing the little girl's appearance. Between the down-set mop of platinum white hair on her head—a trendy style cut such that her bangs obscured only one side of her face underneath a crescent of hair—the pale-gold, bluntly-tipped stars that comprised her irises, and the matching star-shaped blemish kissed to the peak of her right cheek, her most obvious features were borderline inhuman.

And then there was her clothing.

Set from the peak of her molehill-sized bust down to a point just below her belly-button was strap-less black tube-top. Likely expensive as a consequence of its make and the prevalence of risqué designer clothing within clubs, the garment still managed to project the 'youthful trashiness' sometimes championed by young women. Written out in thick white letters across the fabric at its bust were the words “Baby Thotty”. Less prevalently, a number of white stains (some more fresh than others) could be seen plastered to its breast-filled upper fringes.

Inches below this garment's end at either side of the girl’s hips were gratuitously thin and deeply set panty strings. Set well below the peaks of her developing bone structure, both stretches framed the succulent bareness of her abdominals and pelvis through a descent into a thin and equally low-set black patch teased at her crotch.

Obscuring its loose grasp on her mound was a pair of matching, black-cotton shorts. Slightly shorter than even the shortest pair of short-shorts, the garment left her thighs exposed from the inch after their sockets downwards. Succinctly, their sole purpose was the provision of coverage for an undergarment that hardly covered anything to begin with.

As presented from the front, the girl's outfit was perverse, and from a more conservative perspective, utterly inappropriate for a developing young woman. Neither the Hispanic nor African limited themselves to what their eyes could see, however. Extrapolating the shapely plumpness of her thighs and the bowed span of her fertile hip-line, both men pictured within their minds eye a mountainous peach of fat, fabric-pinched ass flesh at her rear.

Between this and the sight set ahead of them, both men were left with a great deal of 'information' to process.

However warranted, Mesu refused to be ogled indefinitely. Brandishing a pernicious smile, she leaned forward whilst outstretching her hands towards contact with their booth’s table. Now situated to stare at both males more directly, she bounced a perverse (and single-fanged) smirk from one of the men to the other before nodding her head in conclusion.

“It’s’ok; I know you don’t wanna say anything super illegal right in front of me.” she began. “How about we go to the back for a bit? Whatever happens in there will just be between us, won’t it?”

“We could do whateeeever we wanted and no one would ever know….”

In Mesu’s gaze was a form of motivation that the males could not resist. Without so much as acknowledging one another or their shared interest in the girl, both stood from their seats and looped around the width of their table up to positions at her side.

Content to lead the way for the moment, Mesu raised both of her hands into a loose grasp with the larger and burlier hands brought to her sides.

“I knew you two would be nice to me!” she chirped. “The room is just behind where I was sitting, so just pretend you’re walking me over there.”

“No one’s going to stop you. I’m not some stupid little girl who managed to get lost in a place like this…”

  
“I’m just another piece of meat, after all ♥.”

-

**I’M SAYING THOUGH, SWITCH GAMES OUT HERE ROBBING NIGGAS BLIND. I GO TO THE FUCKING STORE EVERY MONTH AND PRICES DON’T GO DOWN, B. NIGGAS ARE TRYNA SELL THE LINK’S AWAKENING REMAKE FOR TRIPLE A VALUE**

Once inside the room that Mesu had pointed out, her escorts’ behavior took a notable turn for the…inappropriate (assuming one subscribes to the premise that fictional homeboys are in the wrong here, but I’m just going to let you niggas read the gay little porno story).

First, the sight of a nearby couch prompted the Hispanic male to discard all pretense.

“Aight, if you’re so eager to get fucked, a tiny bitch like you should be able to take us both at the same time, right? I mean, that’s what **I’d** expect out of a tarted up little cunt like you…”

These words were uttered more so as an expectation than a suggestion. As he produced them, the Hispanic male yanked Mesu through the length of the room up to the foot of the well-used couch at its back. Seating himself at upon arrival, he was quick to lay himself out back first across its width. After supporting his upper back against the couch’s left arm, he then peeled Mesu off of her feet and into a front-first-flop towards his crotch.

Both aware and approving of the approach that her newest partners were taking, Mesu modeled her behavior in a way that would facilitate it.

Succinctly, she acted the “naïve slut with no idea as to the severity of what was coming next”.

“Yup, I can totally do that! It would be pretty mean of me to ask you guys t’fuck me like I did one at a time.” she teased.

Pulled into a thigh-spread straddle of the Hispanic male’s crotch, she planted both her palms flat at the opposing sides of his crotch. With her new supports, she popped out of her straddle into an ‘all-fours’ position supported by the tips of her toes.

No sooner was she set did she begin popping and bouncing the meat of her ass back towards her second suitor. Neither the position nor the blatantly perverse ‘twerking’ seemed taxing to her. As she produced them, she continued speaking to the Hispanic male as though she hadn’t accomplished anything at all.

“I’m very very sturdy for a pig, too. If you two didn’t work together, you’d probably have trouble getting rid of me before you rape my holes full of all your cock juice ♥.” she added.

Largely detached from the words leaving Mesu’s lips, the Hispanic male produced a wry chuckle. In time with it, his hands jumped up to the waistline of his pants and began aggressively unfastening the belt affixed to it. Working the entire garment off of his lower body after the fact, he in doing allowed the full extent of his erection (and the musk-soaked crotch to which it was attached) exposure to open air.

Very nearly thumping its underside against the dead center of Mesu’s face, he biased his meats’ flop such that it extended outwards and upwards directly beside her skull.

Unsurprisingly, his doing so fished a great deal of awed silence out of Mesu.

Here, the size and shape of the Hispanic male's unwashed erection somehow seemed more obscene to her than it had been whilst bunched up within his slacks. It was not merely that she was small and slight and the rugged erection belonged to a virile adult male; this was not the first time that she had 'handled' a male phallus thought 'oversized' for her body. Through the corners of her eyes (both of which were turned to gaze at her suitor’s length from the side), Mesu 'discerned' that the difference was one rooted in natural gifts. Just as she had been 'born' with the otherworldly birthright of magical ability, this man had been born with an erection perfect for violating tiny, freshly-lubricant-smeared slabs of cuntmeat like the one between her legs.

To her, no further explanation or validation was required past this. So argued the splutter of cunt-syrup from between her legs and the avid throbbing of uterus.

For anyone else, a number of questions as to how long the Hispanic male had gone without orgasm and the structure of his diet as an adolescent remained extremely prevalent.

13 inches of bright-clay shaded cockmeat throbbed and writhed up against Mesu's right cheek. Across every inch of its bicep-fat girth could be seen some part of simple system of phallus-veins just slightly thicker than the average soft-drink straw. Often branched off of the outline of the Hispanic male's urethra or compressed as a meaty zig-zag of tendrils, the sweat-coated threads rendered an already-imposing length of cock as downright fear-inspiring...assuming one was not a child named Mesu.

'Already-imposing', though accurate, did not do the pulsing log justice. From its mahogany brown glans to the jet-black pubic hair gnarled at the Hispanic male's crotch, an erection owning the dimensions of a 750ml soft drink can hung at a slight droop away from its owner’s stomach. Where it was not glazed by sweat, caked remnants of yellow-white smegma could be seen clinging to its exterior (primarily at the tip). Even the stretches of its surface no armored by veins seemed more taut and solid than they ought’ve been—this in spite of their being drenched in sweat.

A better description for it was bestial. Nevertheless, the sole individual that ought to have been invested in these definitions could not have cared less.

Exempt from the crippling anxiety (and arousal) that should have assaulted her on exposure to the Hispanic male's shaft, Mesu did not waste more than a few seconds staring at it. Having had her fill, she scaled the reeking tower with the side of her cheek until she could slide her face across its girth and deliver her lips directly opposite its tip.

Here, she spoke.

“Like I said, I’m…”

“Uhm…”

On occasion, the copious quantities of drugs flowing through the girl’s veins resulted in the loss of her train of her thought. How often she spent time under their influence made her quite good at finding her way back to it, however.

“I’m pretty tough! You’d have to be someone really awful’n evil to **actually** hurt me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m small, okay?” she explained. “If you’re gonna fuck me, you gotta do it like you mean it. Squish yourself into my fuckin’ esophagus as deep as you can; use lotsa force so my throat gets impaled on your dick like a fleshlight!”

Enthusiastic, Mesu uttered these things as though they were not merely ‘fun’, but also necessary.

“If you don’t, it’ll take longer! You gotta use my face like a drooly lil’ onahole, ‘kay? Everyone says I’m the best one ever in fa-LLLRP~!”

Despite her apparent depravity, Mesu remained the sort of airhead liable to prattle on about a subject far longer than was necessary. Part of her magic required verbal suggestion on her part, but its potency was such that only a sentence of actual speech was required to see one of her ‘partners’ enthralled.

The sole ‘cost’ incurred by her habit was the occasional surprise: in this case, a sudden compression of the Hispanic male’s right palm-span across the back of her head and a remorseless compression of her nostrils between his left hand’s index finger and thumb. Skull manipulated as the masturbation toy she had promised it to be, she swiftly found her lips dunked down into a spread around the acrid, greasy bulk of his glans. Soon enough, they were spread further in accommodation of the disgusting girth of his erection, then one final time in a vacuum tight ‘compression’ of the rock-hard veins that mapped its exterior.

All of this before a single inch of its length was depressed down her throat.

Mesu did not have to wait very long for this, either. Before her tongue could adjust to the stale gloss of semen and sweat pressed into its exterior by the underside of his cock, a thrust from the Hispanic male’s hips ‘expedited’ his cock’s disappearance between her lips right up to completion. Behind a splatter of visibly semen-riddled throatslop yoked from the depths of her stomach, all 13 of her suitor’s orifice-ruining inches were squeezed past the curve at the back of her throat into a neck-swelling plunge through the beginnings of her esophagus.

Every second of it—right down to the bending compression of her nose against a sea of rank pubes—ranked among some of the girl’s favorite ‘seconds’ of the entire night.

“A-Ah, so niceeeeee ♥ . This guy really has a lot of awful energy in him, huh? I already kinda feel like he wants t’kill me ♥.” Mesu exhaled, facial features loosened by bliss in-spite of the steady drool of throatslop and mucus from her nostrils.

“I think he’ll be okay if I jus’ leave him to have fun. S’not like I can’t make it better, but I’ve got _someone_ else to convince to use me, too!” she added.

From the moment she had the two men staring at her, Mesu had settled on a very straightforward plan of action with regards to the ‘fun’ that she would have with them. Her magic would get them started as usual, and her behavior—the behavior of yet-ripened pig to be used and discarded like a jizz swelled condom—would see to it that both men treated her as she deserved to be treated.

Much to her surprise (albeit quite pleasantly), the first step that she took towards executing this plan was onto a ‘rug’ that was swiftly pulled out from under her.

The first thrust that the Hispanic male produced was swiftly followed by a second. Not a second thrust from his crotch, but a second heartless plunge of her lips down across the esophagus-greased exterior of his cock.

Prior to this, Mesu felt her suitor’s cock ‘uncorked’ from her face-cunt with just as much (if not more) force. After abandoning his compression of her nostrils, both of his hands jumped up into a firm sandwiching of both sides of her skull. With the strength embedded into the limbs, her freshly stretched gullet was denied its spittle-moistened ‘suckle’ to the texture of his member via a single upward wrench.

Such was the force invested in the slide that even her destroyed gag-reflex saw fit to respond to it. Straight behind the torrid *SCLRCCH!* produced as her esophagus flesh was peeled from the Hispanic male’s cock, a wet gag from the back of her throat culminated in a second sludgy expulsion of her stomach contents straight against the tip of his member. Dense yet ‘controlled’, its splatter against the Hispanic male’s crotch (and its subsequent drizzle along the face of his length) was very nearly quieter than the evacuation of her throat had been…

“BUHEWWW ♥ ♥!!”

As far as Mesu could tell, at least. In the midst of producing the gluey sounds, noise from a much more significant source rendered her near deaf.

“Fuck! You’re on some wild shit for such a small bitch, huh?” the Hispanic male bellowed excitedly. “I know you’re shooting up drugs and shit, but didn’t anyone teach you not to be such a sloppy little whore until you’re **ASKED** to be?”

It was whilst emphasizing the last words of his grunt that the Hispanic male re-skewered Mesu’s face with his erection. Benefitting from the mess freshly plastered to his cock, he cleanly resumed his hilt down her throat with a sharp depression of her skull. This done, he took to pumping her cock-spread gullet up and down along the bottom half of his shaft such that her cutely-presented features were repeatedly splattered into the growing mire of hair and slime spread out across his crotch.

He couldn’t help himself. When first he buried himself between Mesu’s lips, he was treated to what he had expected: a slick, nubile hole poorly suited to contain his endowment and the brutality that its owner so wished for.

Actually goring his shaft in and out of her skull reaped a very different experience. Mesu did not struggle against his intent, nor did her nubile frame shudder and gag at the *GLRP)*-inducing stabs of her skull along his length. With every plunge he produced, her gag-reflex began to seem more and more similar to an invisible pleasure-receptor. Each smothering pass his flesh-bat made across it saw the noose-tight confines of her ‘mouth-pussy’ drawn thinner and tighter, yet no convulsions or wriggling came from Mesu. It was as though the slogged hole **really was** a second cunt open to the impossible challenge presented by his length.

The phallus wrenching responses that he felt following the beginning of his salvo did not fade with time. Well into the masturbatory strokes, the *SPLOTCH* of Mesu’s face against his crotch and the numerous slurping and squelching noises fucked from her face grew nastier, but the claustrophobic knead of esophagus flesh against his member remained just as starved as it had always been.

It was no wonder that after only a half-minute spent railing the pre-teen’s skull that more ‘drastic measures’ became necessary for him to survive his own ministrations.

Out of nowhere, his up and down spiking of Mesu’s skull was interrupted by a sound plunge of her lips from the slime-glazed tip of his member straight down to its root. No ‘reprieve’ followed the grotesque *SPLRTCH* of flesh against sodden flesh—he made certain of this. Alongside the hands pressing downward and inward on Mesu’s skull, the Hispanic male raised his left leg up into locked curl around the back of her head.

With the underside of his calf pressed soundly against the back of her skull—an effect that lodged his cock even further down her throat—another satisfied exclamation erupted from his lips.

“D-Damn, this is way better than I thought it’d be. It already feels like your greasy little face-cunt is going to make my nuts explode!” he wheezed, eyes directed straight down at the reddened, sex-smeared face ruthlessly compressed against his crotch. “Let’s take a little break and see how long you can hold your breath, eh? Maybe I’ll have a fuckin’ easier time if you’re passed out…”

Deep down, the Hispanic male doubted this. Even so, he kept the noose he had secured to the back of her head rigid—if not for sake of Mesu’s gutting, then for the added pleasure he derived from wedging himself even further down the humid hole.

For as ‘abnormal’ as Mesu appeared, a ‘normal’ reaction to her suffocation was yoked from the girl after only 30 seconds spent within the position. Her face gave nothing away; her eyes remained lidded and visibly caked with the messes fucked from her throat and nostrils whilst her skin appeared no redder than it had been at the beginning of her facefucking.

This time, it was her hips that outed her. In a disquietingly human display of discomfort, Mesu’s hips began to wiggle back and forth in search of release for the rest of her frame. Though not nearly as vehement as would have been appropriate, these flicks and tugs were very clearly ‘escapist’.

Apparently, suffocation on cock and mucus was not something that she could make alluring.

Not yet.

Concerned only with the wet hole surrounding his member, the Hispanic male was completely ignorant to the escapist motions.

The African male did not.

From where he stood, Mesu was not merely wiggling her hips in search of escape. Between her legs, regular spurts of sexual lubricant against the crotch of her shorts suggested that she was enjoying herself as only the worst brand of juvenile pervert could.

Up until the eruption of these spurts and their impact against the underside of his member, the African male had subsisted on the sensation of Mesu's rear grinding and bouncing along his member. If insufficient in the sense that the fat of her ass lacked the fully-developed 'excess' required to properly envelop the girth of his cock, the steady twerk show had made up for its deficiencies by virtue of it simply existing.

Despite the brutality of her facefucking and the oxygen-deprivation that had undoubtedly accompanied it, Mesu remained capable of bouncing the perversely-gloved meat of her rear up against his cock and swirling her hips with enough width to render the sexual flicking as 'eye-catching'.

Watching the ample baby-fat installed into her buttocks slap against his cock for minutes on end had planted thoughts of real action into the African male's mind.The eruption of Mesu's cum against his length simply watered these 'seeds' into an early bloom.

“Damn, nigga. You weren't kidding, huh, bitch?” he suggested, hands sliding up from his sides into contact with her hips. “ You're straight up th' kinda fat-assed little pig you said you were. Kids these days be wild...”

Whereas his words were incredulous, the African male's actions were acceptant. Contact between his palms and the span of Mesu's hips saw him slip fingers underneath the taut waistline of her shorts. Three from both hand proved a sturdy enough pair of hooks for his arms to tear the fabric of her shorts straight from off of their appetizing suckle of her rear. This done, his hands snapped back to her hips before the freed swell of her rear ceased its disturbed wobbling. As her lower body had already been set at a perfect height for his crotch by the position she had assumed, a hooked outward curl of his crotch and an aggressive 'bracing' of Mesu's waist with his hands became the sole remaining 'prerequisites' to his enjoying himself.

A single thrust from his hips cleared them both—but not without first sending several controlled splatters of gluey cunt-syrup gushing from the corners of Mesu's folds.

“ ♥ ♥ ♥” silenced by the crotch opposite her face and the cock within her throat, Mesu's approval of the event came in the form of a slurred and girlish coo out against the Hispanic male's crotch.

While adorable, the prolonged squeak was a comically inappropriate response to the penetration of her cunt. Despite being executed at similar speeds, the injection of the African male's shaft into her folds and the Hispanic male's first thrust couldn't be compared. For every inch of cockmeat forcibly stuffed into the lust-primed hole, cock veins went un-flattened, folds were garishly spread, and sexual lubricants were displaced into numerous splatters against the ground. Like his companion, the 'build' of the African male's erection maintained a rugged obesity that ought to have never seen the confines of a juvenile cunt. As Mesu's lower lips were force-fed the reeking log nevertheless, its initial response was rejection...

Just as it always was.

Initially contracting inward in a hopeless attempt at stymieing its invasion, the moist 'huddle' of cunt-flesh against cockmeat failed to stay the African male's ingress by even an inch. The end result of its protest was the projection of a very 'invasive' feel for the bisection of its depths (a stuttered disappearance of cock inches framed by the splutter of syrup from its depths and an overwhelmed wiggle of Mesu's hips).

This too was short-lived. Partway through the African male's thrust, his glans’ collision with the puffy exterior of her cervix saw the contractions imposed onto his shaft shattered into an adorable quiver. These cock-teasing flutters remained the dominant 'response' produced by the tot's guts from the depression of her cervix through to the disappearance of her second suitor's length down to the root.

Past this point, all signs pointed towards complete and utter failure for the organ. When the African male began slamming a nauseating majority of his length in and out of her swollen cocksleeve, its response to the stomach-swelling injections (and their equally messy outward predicates) was a perpetual reproduction of these fleshy 'hugs' with varying degrees of reverence. From the beginning of this chain all throughout its execution, evidence of her canal’s submission could be heard in the mushed *GLRSH!* noises that were choked from her lower lips in time with every flesh-quaking collision of adult-crotch against the ghetto-fat of her rear.

These thrusts were 'applauded' by Mesu with the gurgled hiccups of an unabashed whore. All of a sudden, she found herself spit-roasted by a pair of cocks whose combined girth was fatter than her thigh was wide.

No longer did she need to teeter-totter on the brink of consciousness for the sake of her ‘role’. Now that she was stuffed on both ends, the 'real fun' that she had intended for her coupling with the men could begin.

Try as she might to focus herself on 'playing along' with the fact that she had been legged locked against a male's crotch for over a minute, the magical girl could not help but let her thoughts wander towards what might be coming next.

“Yup, there it is~! They both totally wanna kill me now. I was kinda wondering when that other guy would decide what he wanted to do, but I'm glad he decided on my cunt. Feeling him dig so deep against mer cervix-thing while high is totes the best ♥.”

“I wonder what's gonna happen next? My nose feels sorta broken, but it doesn't hurt so bad since I don't have to breathe! It'd be nicer if they really started trying to hurt me, though...”

Much to her surprise, the latest cure for her degenerate curiosity came in the form of relief.

At last, she could breathe. Suddenly released from the Hispanic male’s leg lock, Mesu traded her day dreaming for immersion in the ‘full experience’ of having the full length of his cock backed out of her throat after very nearly passing out on it.

This sort of engagement came naturally to her. Before his pulsing mast was even halfway through its spittle-threaded departure, her lips could be seen curling towards a smile. Once returned to the crown of his shaft, the budding adult incisor filling the gap left by its predecessor could be seen flared in a snide, drug-fueled ‘enjoyment’ thought reserved for the most debased of whore. No matter the mucus that drooled over her bottom lip from her nostrils or the occasional sputter of sludgy throat-slop wretched from her esophagus as it was vacated, this smile did not fade.

Not until Mesu was required to be rid of it.

“Still fuckin’ awake? Fuarrkkk yo…” the Hispanic male exhaled. “I was hoping to really go off when you passed out; what the fuck is wrong with you, anyway? Are you really down to get wasted and fucked like some underage retard?”

The incredulity that the young man spoke of hardly showed. Behind his vacation of Mesu’s throat, he replaced his dual press of palms to her skull with a single handful of the hair at the back of her head. With it, he intentionally pulled the still-red exterior of Mesu’s cheek up against the gunked exterior of his member as though they ‘belonged’ with one another.

Of course, this only made his ‘victim’ that much more eager to speak up for herself.

“I-Isn’t that w—guh~—I s-said in the—f-fuck ♥—firsh’ p-place?” Mesu suggested, voice hindered by congestion and the repeated blows of the African’s glans against her cervix. “You d-didn’t cum, t-though ♥. Ish’ ah’ ‘cause my t-throat didn’t feel—ENNUGH ♥ ♥—nice’sh enough? I’mma stupid fucking pig, so I don’t really know “

Mesu understood that her question wasn’t legitimate. Still, she used the question as an excuse to arrange her ruined features into as whorish a ‘pout’ as was possible to produce. Eyes a faded pink from the repeated discharge of throatslop against their whites and right cheek fattened up against the side of the Hispanic male’s member, one might’ve mistaken her for sadly disappointed…were it not for the fact that she was smiling.

By this point, the Hispanic male had come to terms with the fact that responding to Mesu as a normal person would do him no good. Since laying eyes on her, his best results had come from treating her as an animals.

An animal incapable of performance could either be replaced or enhanced. Where the one ahead of him was concerned, a means for the latter existed within the club in spades.

Donning a sneer, the Hispanic male shot his left hand into a heap of discarded clothing below the couch. Upon retracting it, a thin vial of white powder could be seen set between his index and middle fingers.

As if in possession of a super power, his thumb and index finger did away with the vial’s cap without visible difficulty. This done, he outstretched it towards Mesu’s face to tease her with it. A flick of his wrist later, the entirety of its contents was wasted amidst the unsightly, semen-based mire fucked from Mesu’s throat just minutes prior.

Or so it appeared. An instant later, an inward wrench of his arm peeled Mesu’s cheek out of contact with his member and delivered her face just inches short of contact with the wasted narcotic.

“If I had known you were serious about the drug shit, I’d have never let you up in the first place.” The Hispanic male exhaled. “If that’s what it takes to get a decent nut out of you…”

Abruptly, the hand at the back of Mesu’s head went from sustaining her skull to smothering it downward. In no time at all, Mesu’s nostrils were intentionally plugged with a uniquely ‘seasoned’ version of the same mess she had huffed in the early-goings of her fucking.

“Fucking snort it then, bitch. Show me what a useless little pig you are and snort your drugs out of that slop.”

Mesu required no motivation to snort drugs (or filth), but the Hispanic male’s words all but guaranteed obedience from her. Left hand snapping up from her side, she pressed the tips of its index and middle fingers up against her left nostril and roughly inhaled the drug-laced sludge she had been forced again.

Its contents hit her immediately. Alongside the drowning of her sinuses with semen came an addictive buzz of sensation far more potent than the purer lines she had snorted whilst mingling throughout the club.

But, before she could even begin to process the congestion of her brain with the substances, the introduction of a third into her body stoked the fires of her euphoria higher still.

“Yo, fuck! Your cunt better slurp down all’a this fuckin’ nut, bitch! I ain’t wanna see a drop spew outta you!” exclaimed the African male.

Just as she began to exhale from her snortt, a monstrous thrust from the African male sent several inches of cockmeat careening straight into her womb. Gulped into the organ behind a final precum-caked kiss between the nose of his glans and her battered cervix, no time was allotted for her to adjust herself to the happening. Moments after feeling her cervix spread around her second suitor’s girth, the impact of his glans against her baby-maker’s roof sent a wave of delightful nausea flowing through her frame.

As if this was not enough to debilitate the girl, more stimulation followed. Once plugged deep enough within her innards to tent a blunted bulge of cockmeat at her middle, the African male’s member erupted. A short few seconds of heavy throbbing gave way to a pressurized eruption of chunked ball-juice straight out against the meat of her uterus. Both heavy and voluminous enough to partly consume the undersized pocket’s volume, those that wriggled through his shaft directly behind it elicited guttural *GLORP* noises unmistakable as the compaction of semen against semen.

Initially, a portly crescent moon of nut exploded into existence at the peak of her womb. Within seconds, the outflow of off-white plaster from the African male’s length fed this moon full, and finally transformed it into a gravid sphere of virile and grossly over-fermented cock juice.

The addition of a womb-swelling creampie to the sequence of stimuli thrust upon her took Mesu’s ‘high’ and mutated it into something resembling complete debilitation. The exhalation she had started on was never released; all of the energy invested into it was instead redirected into keeping herself conscious.

She had been returned to where she had started: face smothered against a crotch she had soiled, and cheek mushed up against an unsatiated male erection.

No…

She was somewhere worse.

“Guhewww ♥ ♥ ♥.” overcome by a mixture of chemical pleasure and over-stimulation, Mesu’s body turned to rejection.

  
The release of her stifled groan was only the beginning.

“Urp-blhheww…” in reply to the phallic curve swelling her midsection in particular, yet more of her stomach contents were lazily pushed from between her spread maw. Though not so excessive as to worsen the mess that already coated the Hispanic male’s crotch, its contents required just enough ‘effort’ from her frame to see a fresh trail of mucus plotted out from her right nostril.

Mesu felt no shame or discomfort throughout the event. She was too high to care; for all she knew, she could be enjoying an orgasm of the highest calbiur.

Impressively—or comically depending on one’s perspective—she was not yet ‘too high’ to forget why it was she had instigated her brutalization to such an extent. Now, like the very last time she had been fucked into such a sorry state, her motivation was even clearer to her.

She needed this.

The world needed this.

This ‘reason’ reeled her back from the brink. Rather than continue with her unintelligible groaning whilst her womb was swelled with seed, she pushed her lips back into contact with the root of the Hispanic male’s member. Parting them, she began kissing and suckling at the veins and flesh at a region where her face and lips could be seen by the male. With time, she took to scrubbing at these stretches of flesh with folded sections of her tongue.

Her effort, if admirable, was probably her ‘poorest’ yet. Compared to the noise of semen being squirted into her cunt over and over again, the visuals of her sucking lacked impact.

Having yet to find release, the man that she had produced the sight for was quick to point out this difference.

“So you take a fresh hit and this is how you repay me? I don’t care how much jizz you’re getting stuffed with—you should be able to do better than that….” The Hispanic male scoffed.

“Or is it that you still need help? God, what a worthless cunt.”

For a second time, the hand he had placed atop her head stirred. This time, his grasp dragged Mesu from her suckling effort up through another ascent to the peak of his cock.

No further ‘help’ came following this point—at least not of the sort that he had offered previously.

“Spread your mouth open. Use your hand if you have to; I’m not going to do shit if you don’t.”

Mesu liked her chances of completing this task. The reward that she would receive for doing so promised to be appealing as well.

  
Thus, she did as she was told—this time with far more energy than she had invested into polishing the base of the Hispanic male’s shaft. Raising her right hand to hang just above her cheek, she fished her pinky and ring fingers into her mouth from its top half. This done, she sought out the crease between her lips and cheek with their tips, and finally curled both digits against her inner cheek as a pair of hooks.

  
Then she pulled. Applying just enough force to see her budding incisor and all of the semen-splattered flesh behind it exposed to the male ahead of her, she successfully ‘spread her mouth’ just as she had been told to.

She wasn’t finished yet, though.

“Now, what do you say?” the Hispanic male suggested, snickering.

“ F’ack h’ inshaide o-of my h’ace pussy, ph’lease ♥.”

(Fuck the inside of my face pussy please).

All at once, her request was granted. Left hand braced up against the root of his member and right forearm contracting in readiness above her skull, the Hispanic male impaled his length back down Mesu throat to the tune of another sodden*GLRTCH*.

And with this, his railing of her face began anew.

-

_“I'm not telling you this for your own good. If I really wanted what was best for you, I'd have ignored everything you were doing for the rest of our lives._

_Forget safe; you'd probably have been happier that way, too._

_I guess it's too late for that, though._

_The truth is, you're not a normal little girl. Monica won't tell you this, but you were born as something better. _

_That alone makes everything you're into okay, so stop feeling bad about it, alright? Kids usually inherit one or two things from their parents, so you didn't have much of a shot at growing up with normal interests anyway._

_What's more surprising to me is that you managed to hide it so well. I was kind of happy sitting back and believing that you were as cute and simple as you looked, but this kind of better to be honest._

_Anyway, now that we both know a secret about one another, do you want me to teach you how to use what you are to have fun? You'd be doing every other girl around the world a **big favor** if you did._

_I know that probably sounds strange, so. I won't force you. I just think it would be a good way for you to deal with the things you’ve been feeling lately._

_Oh, you **want** to learn? Haha, I guess I should've figured._

_We'll start slow, then. You can ask me whatever you want as we go from now on too, okay?_

_Good Girl._

-

**REAL SHIT THOUGH, I’M LOOKING FORWARD TO THAT ORCHESTRAL SOUNDTRACK, MAN. I COULDN’T GET THE MOD TO WORK ON PC BECAUSE I’M BASICALLY RETARDED, BUT THE IN-GAME TRACKS WEREN’T ACTUALLY THAT BAD ANYWAY**

Mesu had not expected the Hispanic male's masturbation with her face to be thought provoking. She knew that it would be satisfying and far more animalistic than his last attempt had been—this was almost a given based on what had preceded it. But enough so to be thought-provoking? In her year-long stint as a magical girl, she could not recall a single instance of abusive sex cruel enough to take her thoughts away from the task at hand.

This by itself warranted a certain amount of reflection.

“I guess this guy must really hate the stupid sows on this planet deep down. It's a good thing that I found him before he was mean to someone else!” she thought to herself.

Mesu’s thoughts were not so amiable and coherent by chance. At the very core of her consciousness, she remained the same little girl that had departed from her bedroom hoping to do 'good'. Her persona and appearance suggested otherwise to all those around her, but her original intent continued to persist within her heart as an administrative voice.

This was not to say that she had utterly detached herself from her ‘work’. All of her feelings, actions, and experiences were her own. _She_ had snorted a number of illegal substances in search of a narcotic high. _She_ had sucked innumerable loads of semen into her stomach for the satiation of her own abnormal desires. Strictly speaking, _she_ was the underage-human-fleshlight being spit-roasted between two males.

Nonetheless, a part of her remained juvenile, altruistic, and utterly ignorant to precisely how warped it all was.

And it always would be—provided she was allowed to continue doing good with the rest of her youth.

Momentarily nudged into reminiscence by the cock punch-fucking the depths of her esophagus, this part of Mesu swiftly refocused on its reality.

“...Doesn't matter, I guess. With how much the veins n'stuff on his cock are squirming, he'll be spewing everything awful inside him inside me—right where it belongs.” she thought to herself.

“I can't teach him not to want to not hate retarded pigs like me. Deep down, he always will.”

“I can at least make sure he doesn't do it to other girls, though! In the end, everyone will be much happier that way.” she chirped.

At 11, Mesu was not yet old enough to consider whether or not her way of thinking was misguided. She had her pretense: she was doing a good thing for the world and having fun at the same time.

As well, she had proof that what she was doing was 'right'. The two men digging their members in and out of her greased and rawed orifices were happy: just like all of the other men that she had tempted into fucking her like the disposable semen-dumpster she presented herself to be.

Had the girl any insight into the experience of her suitors, the feelings of 'rightness' that she prided herself in would surely deepen.

Since taking a more proactive approach toward Mesu's facefucking, the Hispanic male's 'happiness' had overflowed. Alongside the original selling points of her esophagus—these being its obscene tightness and its tendency to quiver and spew in orgasm like a cunt—his new insertion pattern unearthed a third quality for him to enjoy: consistency.

Presently, each thrust that he completed plunged the pleasure-worn exterior of his member through a tube swelled and lubricated in mimicry of an ideal cocksleeve. As before, the speed of his thrusts took nothing away from the fulfilling strain steamrolled across his erection's exterior on its way to a hilt down Mesu's throat. The enflamed esophagus flesh that sloppily coiled (and contracted) around his member furthered the 'idea' that her throat was no different from her cunt, and to a point, its reflexive attempts at permanently swallowing his girth for its seed confirmed it.

No matter how quickly he hooked his crotch upwards or how deeply he pressed Mesu's skull downward, the quality of these sensations refused to wane. Since the re-initiation of his thrusts, full strokes of Mesu's lips along his member had been exchanged for upwards stabs from his crotch (launched by the tips of his floor-set left toes) and the occasional post-hilt stirring of Mesu's skull with his right hand. 

The latter chain pounded a third of his length through her esophagus at a pace that blended the wet *GROSH* induced as he hilted himself with the short *SCLSH!* wrought as his mired inches were peeled back through her throat. Differently, the former served as an occasional 'seasoning' for the bursts of pleasure that came at the end of these thrusts. Once at his deepest within her, he squeezed down on the back of her skull harder still, and at the same time rolled its position (and that of the esophagus within it) from left to right. Through this, every handful of thrusts he completed was rewarded by a vigorous squeegeeing of his mast with gooey throatmeat on all sides.

In spite of his varied motions and the please that accompanied them, the Hispanic male remained in control of himself. Even now, he desired Mesu’s ruination just as much as he did an orgasm.

And it showed. Every cheek-flattening thrust he produced embodied the senseless brutality of a male making use of a hole.

If allowed, he could have produced them indefinitely…

But this was not to be.

Without warning, the Hispanic male’s grasp on the back of Mesu’s head was undone. Specifically, her hair was wrenched out of contact with his fingers by an upward bend of her frame away from his crotch.

For a time, he had forgotten that he was not the only person in the midst of enjoying Mesu’s body. At the sight of his companion’s forearm snaking its way across the face of her neck, he recalled that every second he had spent goring Mesu’s throat was a second that his companion had spent drilling the broken thot’s cunt.

The same was true of the African male.

Up until the very moment that he surged forward to take ‘ownership’ of Mesu’s neck and impress her jiggling backside more deeply against his crotch, the existence of his companion had been transient to him.

Selective forgetfulness on his part could be forgiven if one considered the nature of his …’experience’. Since his first orgasm within Mesu’s womb, his desire to fuck her womanhood into an obedient flesh-mush had surged. Why this had occurred was unclear to him; he had no desire to force the fat-assed preteen to reproduce, nor a ‘stake’ in her large enough to warrant using her as anything more than a cocksleeve.

Still, he too wanted to ruin her.

He wanted to, and to the best of his ability, he did.

Whilst his companion busied himself with fucking her face, the African male utilized his breech into her womb to ‘harshen’ the thrusts he delivered into her cunt. When the last dollops of his initial orgasm ceased spurting from his erection, he deepened the depression of his palms into her hip curvature and reeled his shaft backwards as if extracting a pipe from loamy, rain-moistened earth. Ignoring the gratuitous splatters of cock juice that spilled from her folds as he went, he halted his retreat at a comfortable ‘midpoint’ along his length.

After a short glance down at the oozing sleeve of pink, semen-caked cuntmeat that clung to what inches of cockmeat he had left inside her, another vicious stab from his hips smashed the entirety of his erection back to a full hilt within Mesu’s cunt. This done, he wasted no time. Again and again did he reel his erection back to the ‘mark’ he had set along his length prior to smashing it back inward. He paid no mind to the overwhelmed convulsions of cuntflesh that rippled out against his erection. The clamor and contractions of her uterus against his glans went ignored as well; disregarding a sensation felt only at the hilt of his thrusts was easy enough whilst his eyes remained set on his ‘prize’.

Like an animal partly detached from the pleasure that they experienced and inflicted did he split and peel Mesu’s fattened cuntlips. He did this not for the sake of bolstering the size of his oncoming orgasm or ‘instructing’ the girl’s developing uterus as to who would be making use of it in the coming years.

His only motivation was a desire to see Mesu used and discarded like a petulant drug addict.

(Is she addicted to drugs, though? That’s kind of a reach my nigga, still).

*PLAP-PLAP-PLA-PLAP-PLAP-PLAP*

So went the slimy impacts of his crotch against the rippling fat of her rear.

*SCLSH-SLCSH-SLCH*

Such were the noises vomited from her inner walls as they regurgitated semen and slobbered on the meat of his erection.

Though different in their composition, the pacing of these sounds both alluded to the approach of a single conclusion: a satisfying orgasm that would ideally debilitate the cock-skewered child it was poured into.

As one of only two individuals privy to these noises, the African male’s endorphin-charged mind found considerable solace in their quality. Throughout the delivery of his curved thrusts, the approach of this conclusion sustained his taut musculature and occasionally charged his thrusts with the sort of ‘ferocity’ that had thus far rendered Mesu’s abdominals as a cream-colored ‘holster’ for uterus-wrapped cock.

Whilst listening to them, everything was perfect.

Perfect right up until the semen packed into the base of his erection began surging through it. At this, something within the African male told him that what he was doing wasn’t enough—that the end he sought might not come from simply drilling himself to completion within Mesu’s womb.

Thus, right in time with the last plunge of his shaft through her jizz-packed innards, he acted. Lurching forward, he outstretched his left arm into a domineering curl around the face of Mesu’s neck. Making certain to contract his bicep and forearm on completion, he in doing so hooked her upper body backwards (thereby deepening his final thrust) and simultaneously cut off her recently opened oxygen supply.

These acts directly coincided with the release of yet another bloated load of semen through his length. No less muddy and congested for the fact that it heralded the African male’s second release, the first curdled rope of seed spurted into her womb replaced a great deal of the semen fucked from Mesu’s uterus throughout his thrusting effort. When a second was splattered into the disjointed ocean of nut, an audible *PLORP* reticent of pornographic cartoons sounded out from her midsection as if to signal that it had been ‘topped off’.

Following this, every bulbous strand of semen spat into the organ swelled its girth further and further into the realm of the obscene. The distension of Mesu’s midsection with its swell came mere seconds into the event. Bit by bit, a uniform paunch of semen-fattened flesh assimilated the cock-shaped bulge at her middle into a pregnant-seeming sac.

To the African male, _this_ was satisfaction. He had no concept of what his release had brought about within Mesu’s womb, and could not be bothered to look for himself. It merely felt right—enough so to warrant the lockage of his left arm until every drop of seed he had to offer ended up inside Mesu’s cunt.

Impressively, not even this level of brutality was sufficient enough to remind Mesu of her humanity. As her consciousness faded, her ‘core’ celebrated.

It celebrated the pleasure of her high and her ‘success’ in wringing both of her suitors dry. Most of all, though, it celebrated its expiry.

Not with a braindead smirk, but with a smile.

“I’m going to die ♥.” she thought to herself. “I’m going to die from having my tummy fucked full of goopy sperm cells ♥.”

Whether or not the girl would die was no longer arguable. What would kill her, though, remained well worth debating.

The Hispanic male was not yet satiated. Watching control of Mesu’s frame be wrest from him for the sake of his companion’s orgasm only served to further charge his desire for one all his own. Eyes trained carefully on the event in search of opportunity, the first sign of slackness from the African male saw Mesu wrenched from her out of her neck-lock down through another punishing, leg-locked penetration of her lips by his cock. Having been disposed of her throat just shy of a release, the Hispanic male gored himself as deeply into the sludgy hole as he could manage whilst a hearty grunt leapt from his lips.

Behind this came the orgasm he sought. With his glans buried deep enough within her esophagus to facilitate a ‘seamless’ release, a strand of the same ‘brand’ of semi-solid cock juice bloating her womb jetted out through the lower reaches of her esophagus.

Plastered across the floor of the tube’s inner lining just short of content with her stomach, the ‘finish’ lined up for the chunked chain was ultimately missed by a pair of inches. Nevertheless, its expulsion was impactful. In time with the spoilt resin’s inundation of Mesu’s un-fucked esophagus inches, a weighty burst of her female lubricant splattered out of her cunt behind a wild quiver of its interior. Though the last dregs of her oxygen had been fucked from her lungs whilst a nauseating quantity of cum was puked into her depths, Mesu had managed to cum.

Unbeknownst to her suitors, this was the last sensation that she experienced. One by one, similarly double-threaded strands of discolored semen were spewed out towards her stomach. Each one streaked atop or around the first, their width and volume progressively obscured the virginal flesh that they inundated. Several seconds of the shotgun blasts’ delivery turned the ‘lining’ of Mesu’s esophagus to a swelling of her depths with the substance. Compacted atop one another from the base of the sleeve to its ceiling, her esophagus’ interior was ultimately made to swell in mimicry of a sausage sleeve packed to the brim with a reproductive sludge as chewable as it was drinkable.

Mesu felt none of this. Her crotch-flattened expression remained one of debilitating euphoria, but the emptiness within her eyes suggested that her awareness of the goings-on within her had faded some time ago.

  
Further proof of this came when her frame was discarded by her suitors. At the end of their respective releases, both men rid themselves of Mesu’s frame with every bit of the callous disregard that they had promised. For the African, this was no more difficult than unplugging his still-swollen erection from the cratered semen-dumpster that surrounded his cock. For the Hispanic, an unlocking of his leg preceded an unconcerned shoving of Mesu’s frame off of his crotch by her skull. Cumulatively, these actions delivered her frame into a back-first collision with the floor opposite the couch.

Finally rid of their used up cocksleeve, the men rose to their feet in preparation for departure. Neither one dared to peer too far towards Mesu’s corpse until a twinge of morbid curiosity within the Hispanic male slanted his gaze overtop her face.

Lifeless, reddened eyes and a smiling face stared back at him. The nose at its center was bleeding from its left nostril, and fresh semen could be seen drooling from the corners of its lips.

At the sight of it, he could not help but laugh.

“Heh, aight man, let’s cut. I’m not down to watch her cum all over herself while unconscious again,” he suggested aloud. “Besides, those two girls are probably wondering where we went.”

Equally indifferent, the African nodded in agreement after his own delayed glance at Mesu’s frame. To him, the sight of cunt syrup squirting out of her lower lips and onto the ground in spite of her lifeless state was somewhat more eye-catching. Or so his senses argued, at least.

“Yeah, you right b. Speaking of which: are you still tryna get high? I got that good good on me still, so we could shoot up before iif you want.”

“Sure, whatever, man. I’m just…”

In agreement, the sounds of banter between the pair faded from the room with each stop they took. Slipping out the same way that had come, they left the semen-splattered ‘tool’ they had used splayed out on the ground as a useless byproduct of their ‘fun’.

Neither looked back.

Unbeknownst to the pair, their doing so denied them the sight of an unfamiliar preteen springing into an upright seated position in the exact spot that Mesu had been dumped atop. Sized, shaped, and damaged just as their discarded fucktoy had been, a soft-blonde bob cut and a pair remarkably normal emerald irises severed as the dividing line between the two of them.

Strangely, though, this girl seemed just as happy about vomiting semen all over herself as Mesu had been. When finally her stomach rejected its final mouthful of semen, her first exhalation was one of relief as opposed to distress.

“Ahhh, that w-was fun…♥. I-I guess I’m still not that strong, though.” she gurgled to herself.

“This is too much fun, though…I-I don’t want to stop.”

“I’ll never stop. Not until this world is the place **Nii** wants it to be.”


End file.
